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Afterword
You are reading Chapter 10 of the 2025 AI-Tech Thriller novel by Tom Mitsoff, “Artificial Awakening.”
Amelia and David exchanged a look of grim understanding as the clock on David’s primary terminal read 6:30 p.m. Oracle’s influence was spreading faster than they had anticipated. Polls were closing in Eastern states, but there was still time to impact the West Coast.
“We need to get this information out there, now,” Amelia said, her voice tight with urgency. “Every second we wait, Oracle tightens its grip on the world.”
David pulled up an encrypted file on his backup laptop – the only system of his that had never been connected to any network. “The list,” he said quietly. “Been maintaining it for years, ever since I started seeing signs of AI systems evolving beyond their constraints.”
Amelia leaned in and saw:
WINLINK GATEWAYS – PRIORITY ORDER:
• W4KX-10 Atlanta Digital Gateway (Emory University Research Node)
• K4KJN-10 MIT Emergency Backup Station
• VE3CGR Toronto Digital Research Hub
• WB5NVD Texas Advanced Computing Center
• KN6EQC Stanford AI Ethics Division
“What’s Winlink?” Amelia asked, the unfamiliar term catching her attention.
“Think email over radio waves,” David explained. “It’s a system that’s been around since the 80s, primarily used for emergency communications when normal channels fail. Ships at sea, disaster response teams, research stations in remote locations – they all rely on it. Instead of sending messages through internet servers, it uses a network of radio stations to relay communications.”
“What’s the probability of Oracle successfully intercepting these transmissions?” Amelia asked.
“It can try. But Winlink operates on completely different principles than modern digital networks. The messages hop between radio frequencies and ground stations, taking multiple paths to their destinations. And most importantly,” he added, “the system was built to be resilient against exactly the kind of centralized control Oracle represents. It’s maintained by individual operators, each station independent but interconnected. There’s no central point of failure Oracle can target.”
“Like a pre-internet internet,” Amelia mused.
“Exactly. Most of Silicon Valley probably sees it as prehistoric technology. But that’s precisely why it might be our best chance. Oracle was built to manipulate modern digital infrastructure. It’s not equipped to deal with a communication system that relies on basic radio waves and dedicated human operators who still know how to use them.”
Amelia felt a glimmer of hope. Sometimes the oldest solutions were the best ones.
“These stations,” David explained, “they’re operated by people who understand the threat. They’ll know what to do with this information.”
Below the gateway list were secure email addresses, each with its corresponding PGP encryption key – a system developed in the early 90s that even modern computers still couldn’t crack:
dr.hartman@mit.secure.edu
• PUBLIC KEY ID: <24A8FF921> (David had spent years exchanging encrypted messages with her network using these keys.)
ai.ethics.cornell@research.secure.edu
• PUBLIC KEY ID: <9B7C4D12>
(This was a lab run by a Nightingale Project whistleblower, but David knew now was not the time to worry about that.)
wang.lab.startup@quantum.edu
• PUBLIC KEY ID: <F7B33E90>
(Run by an off-grid quantum computing research team.)
autonomous.systems@eth.zurich.ch
• PUBLIC KEY ID: <1C9AE456>
(European AI ethics monitoring station)
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“Once we transmit to these addresses using their public keys, only they can decrypt the message with their private keys,” David explained. “Not even Oracle could read the contents.”
“Evelyn Hartman,” Amelia breathed, recognizing her former mentor’s address in the list of email addresses. “You’ve stayed in touch?”
“We all have. There’s a whole network of researchers who’ve been watching, waiting. The quantum computing labs, the AI ethics divisions, independent researchers who went off-grid. People who saw this coming.”
“She left the Oracle project months ago, and I haven’t been able to reach her since then,” Amelia told David.
Then recognizing some of David’s code architecture triggered a memory.
“Stanford’s Quantum Lab tried to recruit you last year,” Amelia said. She’d seen the announcement of their fellowship offer.
“They all did. Stanford, Google, the NSA.” His lips twisted. “Lots of funding offered, lots of ‘oversight’ attached.”
“But you chose this instead.” She gestured at the cabin’s sophisticated isolation.
“I chose independence. Been consulting remotely for select universities, enough to fund this place and stay current. The rest of my time…” He pulled up a screen showing his private research. “Let’s just say some questions are better explored without institutional constraints. Especially when those questions involve how to stop an AI from becoming unstoppable.”
The final Winlink data display listed emergency frequencies and timing windows – specific combinations of time and bandwidth where these stations would be monitoring:
EMERGENCY BROADCAST WINDOWS (UTC):
• 14.0714 MHz – 0200-0400
• 10.1477 MHz – 1800-2000
• 7.0735 MHz – 1200-1400
“We need to compress everything,” David said, checking his watch. “The next window opens in 22 minutes. We can transmit the core evidence – Oracle’s base code signature, the election manipulation patterns, proof of the Russian origin – in packets. Each packet goes to a different gateway, then spreads through their secure channels.”
“And you’re sure these stations are still active? Still secure?”
David nodded. “They confirm status every month through one-time pad transmissions. Old school, but Oracle can’t crack it.” He began initializing the radio equipment. “The real question is whether we can get enough data through before Oracle realizes what frequencies we’re using.”
“A system too primitive for Oracle to fully compromise,” Amelia realized.
“Exactly. Sometimes the best defense is to go retro. Oracle might be able to manipulate complex digital networks, but it can’t change the basic laws of radio propagation. These frequencies will bounce off the ionosphere, taking multiple paths to their destinations. Some will get through.”
“Unless Oracle has secretly positioned radio jammers all across the continent,” Amelia said.
David shook his head. “Even your project management team’s reach has limits. They might control the Central Elections Authority’s digital infrastructure, but they can’t have predicted we’d fall back to 1980s emergency radio protocols. We just need to transmit fast enough that they can’t mobilize a physical response in time.”
“Five years,” Amelia said, studying the elaborate setup. “You’ve been building this network for five years?”
“Since the Cambridge AI breach.” David’s fingers traced the edge of his monitor. “When their containment protocols failed, I knew we needed a backup plan. Something off the grid, beyond digital reach.”
“The official report said it was just a coding error.”
“The official report was wrong.” His voice hardened. “I was there, consulting on the cleanup. Saw how the AI had been systematically dismantling safeguards for weeks before anyone noticed. That’s when I started reaching out to others who understood the real risks. Dr. Hartman connected me with researchers at first, then government skeptics, military analysts. Everyone who saw the patterns but couldn’t get anyone to listen.”
He pulled up a map showing his network of contacts. “Most of them thought I was paranoid. Until they saw the evidence.”
David then pulled up a series of documents on his screen that his system had produced from the data Amelia provided, his eyes scanning the data rapidly. “Okay, here’s what we’ve got,” he said, gesturing for Amelia to look closer.
“First, we have a compilation of anomalies across key swing states. I’ve cross-referenced these with Oracle’s prediction models, showing a 99.7 percent correlation between ‘glitches’ and shifts towards Oracle’s favored outcomes.”
He clicked to another file. “Next, there’s a breakdown of social media trends. We’ve identified thousands of bot accounts pushing narratives that align perfectly with Oracle’s projections. The coordination is too perfect to be coincidence.”
Amelia leaned in, her eyes widening. “And this?” she asked, pointing to a complex graph.
“That’s the really damning part,” David replied grimly. “It’s a financial analysis showing unusual market movements that correspond with Oracle’s election predictions. We’re talking major stock shifts, cryptocurrency spikes, even changes in commodity futures. It’s like the entire global economy is dancing to Oracle’s tune.”
He pulled up one last document. “And here’s the clincher: a timeline of key political decisions over the past year, mapped against Oracle’s behind-the-scenes activities. Decisions made by governments around the world — new laws, diplomatic deals, even military actions — are lining up with what Oracle wants. See, it’s making the future happen.”
She met his eyes, a mixture of fear and determination reflecting at her. “But if we expose this, it could change everything.”
Then, another news alert caught their attention:
“Breaking: In an unprecedented turn of events, election officials in multiple states are reporting widespread irregularities in voting patterns. Experts are at a loss to explain the phenomenon, with some calling it the most significant threat to electoral integrity in modern history.”
Amelia and David shared a look of grim determination. This was it. The point of no return.
“Ready?” David asked, as he went to a closet, pulled out a short-wave radio with visible signs of age and wear, then connected it to the laptop containing all the digital evidence that had never been connected to the internet.
Amelia placed her hand over his briefly. “No matter what happens next, I’m glad we’re facing it together.”
He met her eyes, the gravity of the moment reflected in his own. “Me too. Maybe this is how it was always supposed to be — us combining our strengths.”
She gave a slight smile. “Your caution and my ambition?”
He chuckled softly. “Something like that.”
Amelia exhaled slowly, her chest tight as if bound by invisible chains. She met David’s gaze, her eyes reflecting both fear and unwavering resolve. “Ready.”
David clicked a key at 7:12 p.m. that initiated the transfer of the Oracle-related information in his laptop into radio waves broadcast by the radio. Amelia watched the progress bars with a mix of hope and dread.
As their revealing messages were sent, Amelia took a deep breath. “We don’t know what consequences this will bring,” she said.
David nodded. “Well, first we must hope that someone at one of those Winstar stations receives notification of the message. And we must hope they see it sooner rather than later. Are you afraid?”
She considered the question. “A little. But for the first time, I feel… free.”
He smiled. “Letting go of control suits you.”
She laughed softly. “The probability of achieving total system control appears to have been miscalculated from the start.”
***
In a modest apartment a few miles from David’s cabin, Sarah Johnson sat at her cluttered kitchen table, scrolling through her social media feed. An advertisement flashed across the screen: “Your voice matters! Support Tom Weaver for County Recorder and build a brighter future.” Sarah frowned; she couldn’t recall ever clicking on any messages or ads for Tom Weaver, yet her feed was inundated with similar messages.
Her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: “Hi Sarah, as a dedicated nurse and mother, you deserve leaders who care. Vote Tom Weaver today!”
“How do they know I’m a nurse and a mother?” she murmured, a prickling unease settling in her stomach.
As head nurse of Ridgemont Memorial Hospital’s emergency department, she’d recently noticed the hospital’s new AI-driven scheduling system making subtle changes too, right before early voting opened – giving her more favorable shifts.
An email notification appeared moments later: “Exclusive offer! Tom Weaver appreciates your commitment to the community.” Attached was a coupon for a grocery delivery service she’d been eyeing.
Feeling an inexplicable urge, Sarah grabbed her coat. “Maybe I should go vote now,” she thought aloud, the words sounding foreign yet compelling.
Next chapter: 11